


Cow-parent Trapped

by Rueitae



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Canon Compliant, Canon Continuation, Comfort/Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-21
Updated: 2018-12-21
Packaged: 2019-09-24 02:24:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,090
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17092274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rueitae/pseuds/Rueitae
Summary: Post s8 canon continuation. Kaltenecker is worried and forces Pidge and Lance to have a chat.





	Cow-parent Trapped

**Author's Note:**

> For the prompt 'Canon' and 'Bed Sharing'
> 
> Crack premise turned angsty.

“Well this is a large, stinking pile of -- “

Lance turns to glare at her. “Not in front of Kaltenecker!” he says as he covers the cow’s ears.

“-- disaster,” Pidge finishes. “I was going to say disaster because that’s what this is.” 

Her shoulders slump in dismay. In six hours she’s due to lead a meeting regarding the specs of the new sea vehicles. 

Instead she’s still at the farm with Lance as he pets and tries to sweet talk an obstinate Kaltenecker from unblocking the only exit to the milking barn. Pidge’s tinted glasses show an analysis of the cow, nothing seems physically wrong with her, content to sit and moo at their every plea for her to move. 

“I’m sorry, Pidge,” Lance says. “She doesn’t like the dark. She’s usually in her own barn by now.”

The last hints of light disappear from the cracks in the door, sending the former Paladins and their cow into darkness. 

“So we’re  _ actually _ going to let a cow hold us hostage right now?” she asks dryly.

She only sees him raise his hands in surrender through the night vision mode on her glasses. “I’m not going to make her go anywhere she doesn’t want to. Kaltenecker is very sensitive after all she’s gone through!”

_ We’ve all gone through a lot _ , Pidge thinks sadly. She isn’t worried about the meeting, not truly, despite her moans over being late. Right now she can’t help but read between the lines. 

It’s difficult to forget Allura’s sacrifice on any given day, but especially with the anniversary almost upon them. Pidge has her family to help with the Defenders project, to keep her mind occupied each time she wonders what the vehicles would look like with Allura’s touch, what they would look like combined with Altean magic and what she would think of the Voltron legend continuing like this. 

The passing of years does not make it easier. Hunk confides that he thinks about Allura every time he makes a milkshake for galactic dignitaries. Shiro asks leaders to consider what she would want every chance he gets. Keith will tell her story to anyone who will listen as he hands out food and blankets. 

Lance will tell her story too, mostly within safer borders, to school groups and historians; one of them has to. He spends as much time with his family as he can. Pidge can hardly chastise him for it, not after what she went through to reunite her own family. 

It weighs on him more than the rest of them, she can tell. Except for possibly Coran, but the older altean is far more practiced in concealing his feelings when he wants to. He has Altea to govern and occupy his mind.

They’ve all thrown themselves into work, just like their early days on the Castle, doing everything to keep from being overwhelmed with grief and homesickness. 

Pidge wonders as she has her glasses zoom in on the bags under his eyes, are they taking care of each other enough? 

“You look tired,” she says. 

He stares and takes too long to answer, not bothering to deny it.

She grins instead. “Maybe Kaltenecker is just trying to look out for you, telling you to get more sleep. You saved her after all.”

“ _ We _ saved her,” Lance corrects immediately. 

A specific sort of happiness swells in her chest at the inclusion, the same feeling that occurs every time he praises her and boasts about her genius. While his words are objectively true, she is a genius after all, she drinks in the genuine admiration behind them.

“Come on,” she says with an outstretched hand, “animals are more keen to their surroundings than humans. If Kaltenecker thinks you need rest, you’d better listen.”

She tries not to smile too much when he takes it. “A hay bale isn’t the most luxurious bed,” he argues. “And don’t you have a meeting soon? You look nice, I’d hate if you got your hair and clothes all messed up.”

Pidge is glad it’s so dark and Lance can’t see the warmth in her cheeks. How does she explain it now, after everything they’ve gone through, that his friendship means more to her than she can express as  _ only _ friends?

“We’ve both been through worse,” she teases. She frowns and squeezes his hand. “I know you’re hurting, and it’s okay. But please don’t forget to take care of yourself.”

He stares into her eyes, as if searching into her soul; something he did more often these days. Finally, he sandwiches her hand with his other and sighs dramatically. 

“I’m going to need to make my masks for a solid week. It’s so gross in here. Marco was supposed to clean it today.”

With no warning - she barely manages a surprised ‘ahh!’ - Lance drags her back with him into a pile of hay. Strands puff out, landing on her nice green top and sticking to her bangs. 

Lance has the audacity to laugh, though he’s in the same predicament next to her. 

She lets him continue holding her hand. 

“Thanks for today, Pidge,” he says, rolling his head to face her. “It’s been a long time since we’ve hung out like this. It was really nice, I needed it.” 

“Too long,” she agrees. “And I’m never too busy for you Lance - or any of you!” she quickly corrects, but then smirks and shifts hastily to lay on her side. “Especially if you have peanut butter cookies and video games as bribes.” 

“I’ll note that,” he teases with the brightest smile she’s seen from him in years. He sobers just as quickly though. “Thank you, Pidge. Seriously. I… still miss her.”

“We all do, Lance and we always will. But we’re here for each other when it feels the worst. We’re the Paladins of Voltron; we will always be connected,  _ all _ of us.” Pidge means it. No matter where Allura is, she’s still a part of the universe. It’s all she can do to keep the memory of Olkarion alive.

He hugs her, wraps his arms around her shoulders as if desperate for contact. His tight squeeze is as good as a thank you. 

Pidge reciprocates and soaks in the warmth of his body as she nestles into his chest. He sobs, wetting her hair with his tears. She fights back her own until she realizes there isn’t a point to. 

If they can’t be a shoulder to cry on for each other, then what kind of arms of Voltron are they?

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [Tumblr](https://rueitae.tumblr.com/).


End file.
